Skip to main content

Full text of "The meaning and the mission of music [microform]"

See other formats


CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(Monographs) 



ICIVIH 

Collection de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 



[g] 



Ctnadia,; InttituM for Historical MIcroroprodMCtion. / In.fitut Canadian 



da microraproductiont historiquoa 




1996 



Tectinical and Bibliographic Notes / Notes technique et bibliographiques 



The Institute has attempted to obtain the best oriciinal 
copy available for filming. Features of this copy which 
may be bibliographlcally unique, which may alter any of 
the images in the reproduction, or which may 
significantly change the usual method of filming are 
checked below. 







D 
D 



D 



Coloured covers / 
Couverture de couleur 



I I Covers damaged / 

— ' Couverture endommagee 

I I Covers restored and/or laminated / 
Couverture lestauree et/ou pellicula 

I I Cover tWe missing /Le litre de couverture manque 

rn Coloured maps/ Cartes geographiquBs en couleur 

FT- Coloured Ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 

Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 

r^ Coloured plates and/or illustrations / 
Planches et/ou illustratkins en couleur 

I I Bound with other material/ 
— ReW avec d'autres documents 



Only editk>n available / 
Seule editkxi disponlble 

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
along Interior margin / La reliure serree peut 
causer de I'ombre ou de la distoiston ie long de 
la marge Interieure. 

Blank leaves added during lestoralkxis may appear 
within the text. Whenever possible, these have 
been omitted from filming / II se peut que certaines 
pages blanches ajoutees lors d'une restauration 
appaiaissent dans Ie texte, mais, kxsque cela etait 
possible, ces pages n'cnt pas ete lilmees. 



L'Institut a microfilm^ Ie meilleur examplaire qu'il lui a 
*t6 possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exem- 
plaire qui sont peut-6tre uniques du point de vue bibli- 
ographk]ue, qui peuvent nnodifier une image reproduite, 
ou qui peuvent exiger une modifications dans la m«h- 
ode nomiale de filmage sont IndiquSs ci-dessous. 

I I Cotoured pages/ Pages de couleur 

I I Pages damaged/ Pages endommagees 

I I Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
— Pages restaurees et/ou pellk»jiees 







Pages discoloured, stained or foxed / 
Pages decotorees, tachetees ou piquees 



I I Pages detached / Pages detachees 

n^ Showthrough/ Transparence 

I I Quality of print varies / 

' — ' Qualiteinegaledel'lmpres5k>n 

I I Includes supplementary material/ 

Comprend du materiel suppiementaire 

I I Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
slips, tissues, etc., have been refllmed to 
ensure the best possible Image / Les pages 
totalement ou paitiellement obscurcies par un 
feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont ete lilmees 
i nouveau de fafon i obtenir la r-ellleure 
image possible. 

I I Opposing pages with varying colouration or 
discolourations are filmed twice to ensure the 
best possible Image / Les pages s'opposant 
ayant des colorations vanables ou des decol- 
orations sont fllmees deux fols afin d'obtenir la 
meilleur Image possible. 



D 



AddHnnal comments / 
Commentaires suppiementaires: 



1 .lit ium ii filmid tt iIm raduction ratio ditekad btlow/ 

Ci itocuiMiit «t filmi au tau> de rUuction ifidkwt ci-dtfMui. 

""< i«x lax 



ax 



12X 



20X 



Th« copy filmad han ha* b««n raproduead ttwnkt 
to llM ganaroiiiy of: 

SfMcial CollMtiom Oivition 
Uninilitv of Bfilifh Columbia LibcacY 



TiM imagM appaaring hara ara Itia bast quality 
poaalbia eonaidaring ttia condition and iagibiiity 
of tha original copy and in Itaoping witti tha 
turning contract apociticationa. 



Original eopiaa in printad papar covora ara fllmad 
baginning witti tlia front cowar and anding on 
ttia laat paga witti a printad or illuatratad inipraa- 
aion. or tl«a bacii covar wt<an appropriata. All 
ottwr original eopiaa ara tilmad baginning on ti«a 
tirat paga with a printad or Illuatratad impraa- 
■ion, and anding on tha laat paga with a printad 
or Uluatfatad improaaion. 



Tha laat racordad frama on aach microficha 
ahall contain tha symbol ^^ (moaning "CON- 
TtNUED"). or tha aymbol V Imaaning "END"), 
whiehovar appliaa. 

Mapa. platas, charts, ate. may bo tilmad at 
diffarant raduetion ratioa. Thoaa too iarga to ba 
ontiraiy ineiudad in ona axpoaura ara tilmad 
baginning in tha uppar latt hand comar. laft to 
right and top to bottom, as many tramas as 
raquirad. Tha following diagrams illustrata tha 
mathod: 



1 


2 


3 



1 


2 


4 


5 



L'aiiamplaira filing fut raproduit grica k la 
g4n4ro*it< da: 

SpMial CDll«Gtioiii Divitioti 
Unnanity of B<itith Columbia Library 



Las imaga* tuivania* oni M raproduitas avac la 
plus grand aoin, eompta lanu da la condition at 
da la nanai* da I'aiianiplaira film*, at an 
Gonformlt* avac laa eendltiona du eontrat da 
fllmaga. 

Laa asamplairaa originaux dant la eauvartura an 
papior ast ImprimAa aont tllniAa an commanfant 
par la pramiar plat at mn tarmlnant aoit par la 
damMra paga qui comporta una anKprainta 
d'lmprassion ou d'illustration, aoit par la taeond 
plat, aalon la eaa. Tous laa autraa asamplairaa 
originauii aant filmaa %n commandant par la 
pramlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta 
d'lmpraaaion eu d'llluatration ai an tarmlnant par 
la darniir* paga qui comporta una talla 
amprainta. 

Un daa symbolaa tuivanu apparaitra aur la 
darnJAra imaga da ctMqua microficf<a. talon la 
caa: la aymbola — v aignifia "A SUIVRE", la 
aymbola ▼ aignifia "FIN". 

Las cartaa. planchaa, tablaaux. ate, pauvant itra 
filmto A daa uux da rMuetion difftranta. 
Loraqua la documant aat trap grand pour itra 
raproduit an un aaul clich*. 11 aat filmi i partir 
da I'angla aupAriaur gaucha. da gaucha t droita. 
at da haut an baa, an pranant la nombra 
d'imagaa nAcaaaaira. Laa diagrammat iuivann 
iliuawant la m*thoda. 




2 


3 


5 


6 



iiaocort nsounioN tbi chmt 

(ANSI ord ISO TEST CMAUT No. 2| 



1.0 



I.I 



Hi 

■ii 



13.2 



|2J 
12.2 



1^ 



1^1^ i 



1.6 



APPLIED ItvMGE 

1653 Eosl Main Sim) 



1 :.- »> 




[■•>1] 




The Meaning and The Mission 
OF Music 



■\ popular definition o' music is 
tlii.t it is the lanRU?Ke of the emo- 
tions. It is unciucstionahty the finest 
of the pleasures of >ense. 

Everyone to whom music makes 
any Rcnuinc apiieat must have no- 
ticed frecjuently. and with wonder, 
its c.xtraordi :ary (lower to ramiuil- 
ize the heart, 10 instil a iiea:e guitc 
magical and heyond explanation. It 
soothes while it excites: and, more 
wonderful than -ts power to stimu 
late our etnotions, is it-i i»owcr 'o 
reconcile and harmonize them. It 
does this, t(io, without the aid of 
any intellectual process; it offers us 
no arKument: it formulates no solac- 
ing philosopliy. Rather, it aholishes 
thought, to set up in its stead .a 
novel activity that is felt as imme- 
diately, inexplicably grateful. It has 
done this through all the generations 
since Tubal Cain, right on down 
through the days when the shepherd 
boy's Iiarp stilled the moody brood- 
ings and gustful passions of King 
."aul — on through classical days, 
when .Apollo soo.hed the vigilant 
Argus to sleep with his lyre, and 
when Orpheus, with his lute, lamed 
the fierceness of beasts, moved rocks 
and trees, and lulled to sleep the 
very watch-dogs of hell. 

What it has done tlirough all 
time, music is doing to-day. 

In a gross and material age, such 
as this, there is more need than ever 
for a response to the appeal of pure 



beauty. The mission of music is, in 
this twentieth century, both more 
needed and more nobh than at any 
previous time in life's history. Let 
US be thankful that never before was 
music better fitted for its work. Let 
us be thankful, loo, that never before 
was if- mission and its service better 
appreciated. 

It is hardly necessary to state th;it 
music is the most unive'sal of the 
arts, both in its appeal and in its 
response. From thi cradle to the 
grave we move to, ,nnd are moved 
by, a musical acioiipanimcnl. 
Mother's lullaby , nd the simple 
songs of childhood stir tender rie- 
mories in the miinl. an.' hear s of 
stern and mature m. The 

drinking songs, and the r 
songs of good-fellowship, refl. 
ideals and temperament f 
The multifold manifestalions le 

love-passion are iiinstrated ^ 

sands of songs. The love . 
the love of country, the love 4 

have each dedicated to thn,, 9 

of music's noblest composition. 

There is not an emotion, there *• 
not an inspiration, but that can 
and hardly one that has not b»e., 
expressed in terms of music. Nc- -he. 
clime, age, race nor re'igion can give 
immunity from its power. The ricc- 
ealing Hindoo, the African aborigine, 
the Polynesian islander, are all as 
amenable to its influence as is the 
fulI-Howered product of civilization, 



iai 
<ing 
the 
nth 



Ihe "heir to all the >gef. i., ilie fore- 
mmt lilei o( lime." Olil and young, 
rich iikI poor, cultured ind illiterate, 
alilie yield to ill iivay. The mo»l 
Mitiful happineis lindi only in muiic 
adci|uale expreisu.ii; the mnit p.iig- 
nant grief I'lmli no language like that 
of music with which to portray its 
lorrow. Whether in Doric „. Phry- 
gian moiid it raelli to leudcrilell, it 
in«ipirea to valor, it atirs to patriot- 
ism, it calma to peace. From the 
hcginning of time il has been ine 
handmaid of religion. On earth it ii 
the voice of aspiration towards the 
Divine; in Heaven il is the eternal 
delight of Ihe redeemed. 

What is the meaning of music? 
Mow can we explain the universality 
of its appeal? I shall not presume 
to attempt a complete answer, but, 
in my thinkings on this mailer, some 
thoughts have occurred to me which, 
with some diffidence, I set forth. 

^Io^tal life, as we become ac- 
quainted with it in experience, un- 
mediated by any philosophic or 
artistic mental activity, is complex, 
irrational. From our babyhood, 
when we put our fingers in the pretty 
fire and draw them forth cruelly 
burned, until the moment when a 
draught of air or the bursting 
wall of an outworn artery suddenly 
arrests our important enterprises in 
mid-course, we constantly find our 
faculties, both animal and divine, en- 
countering a world not kindly ad- 
justed. On the m.ilerial plane we 
find drought and tempest, famine and 
flood, accident and disease. On Ihe 
pl.niK- of feeling and sentiment there 
arc Ihe separations of friends, the 
death of dear ones, loneliness, doubt 
and disappointment. In the world of 
the spirit are sin and sorrow, the 
WMkne,is and folly of ourselves and 



of oihers. meaningless chance and 
lie caprice of di'«tiny In such a 
world all of us have often felt that 
gooil fortune is ^onu'timcs ab insult- 
ing as had, and that happiness or 
misery bear tillle relation to either 
effort or deserving. Where all seemi 
accidental, can aught be significant? 
When our highest interests arc de- 
fencelci against Ihe onslaught, not 
only of grave evil, but of mere ab- 
surdity, how is il possible to live 
with dignity or hope? 

N'evcrlheless. men have, at all 
limes, and by various means, fought 
sturdily against Ihe capriciousness of 
life and the despair it engenders. All 
practical morality, to begi with, is 
one form of defence. The moral 
man, facing the universe undaunted, 
asserts his own power to develop in 
It at least his own personal particle 
of righteous less. ..\« much strength 
as he has shall be spent on the side 
of Older. If the world be unjust, 
at least he will love justice! 

nut the intellect is more ambitious 
than Ihe moral sense. Not content 
with Ihe degree of unity that a man 
can develop in this seething world by 
his single action, philosophy seeks to 
prove that the world itself, as a whole, 
deriving its nature as it must from 
mind, is orderly. We like to think 
and believe that, were it not for our 
human limitations— could we but see 
things in their proper perspective- 
were our span of consciousness 
widened until we could perceive the 
whole of existence in one thought 
we should see and feel the deep or- 
ganic beauty that now we yearn for 
in vain. liut no philosophy has any 
word of comfort for the sorrows and 
the perplexities of our daily lives. It 
leaves us often longing for a warm- 
er, nearer assurance of the rightneji 



I 



« 



i 



III lliinin lluniiin love will <1<) much, 
and rcliition will do morr, m Biipply 
the decpiratrd ni i» o( ihe human 
-oul. Hut even to llioie who lind lo- 
•e in thrie, there cnnie hour* of 
wearineo and confuiion, liniei when 
thc> feel tIicinaelvi-9 Kro[)intf in ;i 
formlen world. The morali«l knowi 
moodi of diacouraKemciil, wh#--: 
his power is at ehh. and thr ff , , i 
of evil preas him sorely, em rini- 
even his own heart in (he form i 
temptation, sloth and despair. The 
scientist encimlers facts which his 
theories cannot emhrace or explain 
The philosopher at time> grows tired 
o( attemplinii to uness the answer to 
"the wtary riddle of this world." 
I.ove has its tragedies, and faith its 
hours of eclipse. The world, in a 
word, is too big for ns. Facing its 
vast whirl and glijtcr with our mod- 
est kit of senses, intellect and spirit. 
we are hliniled. deafened, dizzied, 
completely hewildcred. .\nd then, 
recalling wit a wistful regret our 
partial insigl we fancy th, m gone 
forever, anil .selves wholly lost. 
It is just at these moments, when 
the mind momentarily fails in its 
uneiiual struggle with reality, that 
we discover the deep meaning and 
supreme service of Art. For Art Is 
the tender human servant that i.ian 
has himself made for his solace. He 
has adjusted it to his faculties and 
restrained it within its scof, ,■. Fash- 
ioning it from the infinite suhstance. 
he has impressed upon it a finite 
form. It 



"niversal 
>" weary 
,iole. ab- 



particulir syuilio'. of the 
harmony n we are I 

to be comfoiicd hy lit' re 
stract good that relijiio- p.-oiui.es— 
when our faith in "that far-off divine 
event, to which the whcde creation 
moves." hecomi-s feeble and dim. Art 
romcs with an immediate, substantial, 
caressing relief and beauty. Seeking 
to provj nothing. reipiiriuK us no 
activity, saying nothing of aught be- 
yond itself, it is sn|>remcly restful. 
Finding us de/.-.ited in our -.earch for 
rationality, it .ay,: "Search no more 
—at least not now' I'uizle n. more 
—at least not yet! .Merely l.sten and 
look! Here is fuire b.ariy! Delight 
aufl rest." 

.Art. therefore, answers our prob- 
lems, not directly, but by making 
them, for the time being, irrelevant. 
Like morality, philosophy, love and 
religion, it deals with life, hut it elim- 
inates and excludes all it cannot 
unify. Selection and imagination are 
its fundamentals. Though Ihe eye 
cannot shut out the ugly or the su- 
pernous. the pair, - can. He can ex- 
clude from his picture the building, 
the tree, the colors that would mar 
its composition or beauty. Actual 
men and women present all sorts of 
incongruities of face and figure, but 
the sculptor can suppress the stoop- 
ing shouhlers, the knobby hips, Ihe 
bandy legs. He can remodel the re- 
rcding forehead, the uplifted nose. It 
IS the same with the literal arts. 
Language bristles 



, , - with trivial and 

IS a voice less thunderous vulgar words, but the poet uses only 



..an^ature-s a lamp that does no. such as are des;^;;;;'^; 'ZiZI. 

Dlifie, the U^T '""• " '""■ ^^ "''" "■ '' "' 'hat is audible Out 

Pl.fies the wea th that is too luxur- of the infini.e number of sounds tha 

lou, and complex and make, tangi- knock on our auditory nerves musi 

ble a fragment o the great ethereal cians have selected about uTney 

beauty no mortal can grasp. Thus de inite tones, preordained to cong u 

Art IS visible or audible rightne»s_a ity. with which to weave their r^ar 



vellous fabric. This is ever the 
method of art; it excludes the irrele- 
vant or the discordant, in order to 
secure a salient and pure integ-ity. 
By sacrificing something of the rich- 
fess of experience, it gains a ration- 
ality unknown to experience. For 
the truth of this, consider a few 
representative examples. Browning's 
Pippa is a gentle, noble soul, bring- 
ing goodness everywhere: in real life 
she would be a poor millhand, insult- 
ed by a thousand sordid and acciden- 
tal details. Shelley portrays Beatrice 
Cenci in the transligui ng light of 
poetic truth; actual experience would 
show her tortured by a sinister and 
ignoble fate. No Greek youth ever 
matched the perfect plastic beauty of 
the Discus-thrower, and no Italian 
woman ,er symbolized cruel, 
sphynx-like loveliness as does the 
Mona Lisa. Corot's nature is grayer 
and softer and more harmonious than 
ever existed on earth. And in the 
same way some songs p'lsate with 
a passion as intense, but far less torn 
and fragmentary, than that by which 
they were inspired. This serene per- 
fection, which wraps like a mantle all 
works of genuine art, is attained only 
by excluding irrelevancies always 
present in nature. Whistler was wise 
as well as witty when he exc'aimed 
that "to ask the painter to copy 
nature as he sees it, is to invite the 
pianist to sit on the k:y-board!" To 
be sure, were there a perfect adjust- 
ment between nature and our facul- 
ties, were we able to discern the 
unrty that doubtless exists even in 
the infinite complexity of this old 
world, and of that great universe of 
which it is but a fragment of star- 
dust, then such a dictum would be 
outgrown, and selection would cease 



to be a condition necessarily prece- 
dent to all forms of art expression. 
Meanwhile, the conditions that 
govern art have, of course, their in- 
evitable and accompanying limita- 
tions. If art be more orderly than 
nature, it will be far less rich and 
various. EfTects that nature presents 
in a bewildering drench of experience, 
a work of art will have to isolate and 
develop alone, .\ pictured landscape, 
however perfect, is but one phase of 
the reality; in nature there is 
ceaseless play and change; mood 
succeeds mood, and the charm is 
more than half in the wayward flux 
and translormation. A portrait shjws 
but one character; a human face is a 
whol, ,allery of personalities. Art 
unconsciously, and perforce, has to 
adopt a narrower standard, and this 
fact marks its boundaries and limit- 
ations. 

The application of the foregoing to 
the art of music, is, I think, apparent. 
Though the most modern of all 
forms of art expression— music as we 
know it is but some four centuries old 
—it has had from tl„ first certain ad- 
vantages over its sister arts in the 
struggle for richness and claritv. the 
goals to which all art is eternally 
struggling and progressing. These 
advantages proceed from the funda- 
mental nature of music. Musical 
tones are unique in our mental expe- 
rience as being at once more directly 
expressive of the emotional inward- 
ness of life than any other art- 
material, and more susceptible of 
orderly structure. 

That music is beyond all the other 
arts diroctly expressive of man's 
deeper passional life scarcely needs 
theoretic proof: the fact is in the ex- 
perience of everyone who has listen- 
fd to a military band, or to a ragged 



Hungarian with a violin, or who has 
heard a home song lovingly rendered. 
These things take a physical grip 
upon our emotions; they stir our dia- 
phragms, they give us "burns up the 
hack," and compel us to shiver, laugh 
or weep. Combined with such physi- 
cal effects, however, are ideas of 
indescribable vividness and poignan- 
cy. Joy and grief, hope and despair, 
serenity, aspiration and horror, fill 
our hearts as we listen to music. 
These come in their pure essence— 
not as ijualities of something else. 
This is what is meant by the fa- 
miliar statement that the other arts 
are representative, while music is 
presentative. Poetry, sculpture, and 
painting show us things outside our- 
.selves— joyous or grievous, perhaps, 
hopeful or desperate or beautiful oi^ 
ugly things, but still THIXGS. But 
music shows us nothing but the qual- 
ities, the disembodied feelings, the 
passional essences. Recall for a mo- 
ment the effects of painting or of 
poetry, the way in which they provoke 
emotions, and you will grasp my 
meaning. Is it not always by sym- 
bolism, by indirection? Does not 
the feeling merely exhale from the 
object, instead of constituting the 
object, as it does in music? In look- 
ing at a pastoral landscape, for in- 
stance, do we not first think of the 
peaceful scene represented, and only 
secondarily feel serenity itself? Yes, 
in the representative arts emotion is 
merely adjective: in music alone it is 
substantive! We see in a portrait a 
lovely woman: we behold in marble a 
noble youth: we read in poetry a 
desperate story: in music, on the con- 
trary, we HEAR love, nobility 
despair! It matters little that we 
are unable to explain how this can 
be: we know that it is. Psychology 



may one day be able to discover the 
nature of the deep bond that con- 
nects the biological apparatus of emo- 
tion with that of sound sensation: 
for the present we must be content 
with the unequivocal evidence of our 
senses that music is the one adequate 
language of our passional life. 

.\nd since this passional life is the 
deepest reality we know, since our in 
ner emotions constitute in fact the 
very essence of that world-spirit which 
is but projected and symbolized in 
sky, sun. ocean, stars and earth 
music cannot but be a richer record of 
our ultimate life than those arts that 
deal with objects and symbols alone 
Vou will remember that, according to 
Holy Writ, only two of the arts will 
persist to all eternity— .\rchitecture, 
the most substantial and time defy- 
ing, and Music, the most transitory 
and ethereal. It is the penetration, 
the ultimacy of music that gives it 
such extraordinary power. All the 
other arts excel it in dellnileness, in 
concreteness, in the ability to deline- 
ate a scene or tell a story: but music 
surpasses them all in power to pre- 
sent the naked and basic emotions of 
existence, the essential, informing 
passions. 

Another advantage possessed by 
-Music over its sister arts proceeds 
from the nature of its material. 
I ones, produced and controlled by 
man, are far more easily stamped 
with the unity he desires than the ob- 
jects of external nature can possibly 
be. Those are stubborn outer facts 
created without regard to the aes-' 
thetic sense, and in a thousand ways 
unamenable to it. But tones have no 
practical utility whatever: not only 
do they not exist outside of music 
but they would be of no use if they 
did. They may therefore be chosen 



and grouped by the free aesthetic 
taste alone, acting without let or 
hindrance, except what is imposed by 
the thing to be cxpresseil. For hun- 
dreds of years. ni;in has been testing 
and coniparinjf, accepting aiid reject- 



ing, the elements of tlie tonal scries, 
with the result that we have today 
the ladder of ninety odd definitely 
fixed tones, out of which all music is 
composed. Though the fmal selec- 
tion nf music's raw material has been 
built lip so slowly and tentatively, it 
has been done with so sure and deli- 
cate a sense of its natural structure, 
that it is an unsurpassed basis for 
complex anil yet perfectly harmon- 
ious tone-combinations, admirably 
capa!)le of reflecting and arousing 
every form of human emotion. 

lUit tliough the musician's art- 
material is preordained to beauty, yet 
he is by no means exempted from the 
dilTiculties of his brother artists. If 
they work in a less plastic material, 
he has to govern subtler and more 
wayward forces. He can attain ? 
wonderful perfection, but only 
through genius that is inspired, and 
labor tiiat is unremitting. His task 
is to embody the turbulent, irrational 
human feelings in serene and beauti- 
ful forms. He must master tlic dom- 
inating, reconcile the warring, im- 
pose unity on tiie diverse and repel- 
lant. He looks into the stormy and 
tortured heart of man, and seeks to 
recreate, througli tones, the spirit in 
a travail titanic and interminable. 
The music of Wagner and Beethoven 
and Tschaikowsky is the triumphant 
answer as to music's power to deal 



with the portentous verities. Music 
expresses our deepest passional na- 
ture with unrivalled fullness, and yet 
so reconciles it with itself as to sym- 
bolize our liighest spiritual peace! 

Krom the welter and jungle of ex- 
perience in which it is our lot to pass 
our mortal days— days which philoso- 
phy cannot make wholly rational, nor 
love wholly happy, nor religion whol- 
ly serene— we are thus privileged to 
emerge, from time to time, into fair- 
er realms. Tantalized with an un- 
attainable vision of order, homesick 
for a rightness never quite realized, 
we turn to Art. and especially to 
Music, for assurance that our hope 
and faith are not wholly chimerical 
Then 

"Music pours on mortals 
Its beautiful disdain." 
Disdainful it is, truly, for it reminds 
us of the discord and the rhythmless 
on-march of our days. It voices the 
passions that have torn and muti- 
lated, and stung and blinded us: it 
makes us meditate the foolishness, the 
fatuity, the fatality, the aimlessness 
of our chaotic lives. But beautiful 
it is, also; it moves us to thoughts 
"too deep for tears," it breaks up 
the fountains of the great deeps that 
exist, sometimes almost unsuspected, 
within us all. It stirs us to noble 
aspiration, it helps us respond to 
beauty. Hut whether disdainful or 
beautiful, music shows us our deepest 
feelings, so wayward or tragic in ex- 
perience, tnerged into ineffable per- 
fection and peace. To my mind, this 
is what constitutes at once its mission 
and its meaning. 



Kbiine A Hastinge printing iroinpnne 
VancaiiUrr, *.(E. 










Fslffi 






■■■■ i' . , <5'-^ft.i 

---.■,. .-. *!» .-li '^^.jtd